Trapped
by RedYellow11
Summary: AU-Rachel married Finn right after they graduated, and things seemed perfect...but behind closed doors, Rachel's life was hell. Will someone be able to save her from her life? Santana Lopez is going to try. Trigger warning-deals with abuse. Pezberry.
1. Meeting Finn Hudson

A/N: I wrote this a long time ago, and I was planning on posting it, but then I got nervous about it, and didn't post it. And then my computer died, so I thought I'd lost it, but I found it in my e-mail, so I'm posting it now. It's triggery, and I'm not totally sure I'll continue it, but just in case I lose it again, I'm posting it. If you hate it, tell me, but be gentle about it, because I've never written anything like this before. If you like it, and want me to continue, tell me that, too. It might push me to write more for it, because otherwise, it's just an unfinished thought, and it doesn't make any sense in the Pezberry category. Okay. Enjoy, and R&R.

A/N 2: Also, I think it needs to be said that I don't hate Finn. It's just really easy to write him as an asshole.

Disclaimer: Don't own Glee. Please don't sue.

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><p>Life is a funny thing. You spend so much of your youth planning and preparing and obsessing over the future, but no matter how well thought out your plans were, they very rarely come to fruition.<p>

That's pretty much my life in a nutshell.

I spent every moment of my young life thinking that I'd end up on Broadway, adoring fans screaming my name and waiting outside for hours just to get my autograph. I knew since I was very young that I belonged on the stage. My parents weren't always supportive. Well, my dad didn't mind so much, but my mom was against it for a very long time. She was afraid that I'd face the same fate as her. She'd tried for years to make it on Broadway before finally giving up and moving to Lima to teach show choir. She eventually came around, though, and she put me in every singing, dancing, and acting class we could afford.

I loved performing. I loved entertaining people. Even when there were only a few parents watching at one of the recitals I had as a kid, I'd still throw myself into whatever role I was playing or song I was singing. When I could get applause from people, I felt amazing. When I got my first standing ovation from someone who wasn't my parents, I remember running backstage with tears of joy running down my face. It was incredible, and I felt like everyone loved me.

Well, I felt that way onstage. In social situations, however, it was a completely different story. It wasn't so bad when I was younger, but as we all got older, I found myself becoming more and more of a social outcast. It started with my clothes. While all the girls in middle school started wearing things that left little to imagination, I still wanted to hang on to my youth. I liked my animal sweaters, and I still fit into them, so I saw no reason to run off and buy a whole new wardrobe.

Then, there was my nose. I'd never really thought badly about the fact that my nose was a little larger than normal. I'd actually thought it was a good sign, considering that it made me look more like my idol, Barbra Streisand. The girls at school didn't agree. I started to come to expect at least one comment about my nose a day. Couple that with the wardrobe I mentioned before, and the fact that I wasn't developing like the other girls (in height or chest size), plus my habit of singing in public, and I was quickly put on the "not hot" list. No boy wanted within a fifty foot radius of me, and every girl looked at me like I had a disgusting growth coming out of the side of my head.

The boy thing didn't bother me so much on its own. I wasn't actually very interested in boys. I didn't see the appeal of having one of them follow me around like a puppy dog and slobber all over my face whenever they felt like it. It seemed more like a nuisance that a blessing. The problem was that it seemed that every other girl in school was obsessed with getting guys to pay attention to them. I remember the day that Lauren Zizes (almost as big of a pariah as I was) admitted to making out with a guy in the alley behind the movie theatre, and suddenly she was the most popular girl in school.

See, I didn't care about boys' attention, but I definitely wanted girls to notice me. I wanted their approval and acceptance. I wanted to impress them. It was an obsessive want that rivaled my need to make it in New York, and I didn't understand it. It was tolerable at first. I'd just throw myself into my singing and all of that, but as we moved to high school, and I still had no friends or romantic interests, I found myself trying to fit in.

My first attempt at really getting friends was making a MySpace and posting videos of me singing. I thought if the kids at school saw me singing (really singing and performing my heart out), they couldn't keep hating me. My voice always won the crowd over. Besides, getting my videos online was also a way for me to get my voice out there for producers and the like, so it was a win-win for me. That is, until the only people that watched the videos were the girls on the cheerleading squad, and that was only so they could leave nasty comments. It sent me into a depression that had me refusing to leave my room for an entire day. It wasn't until my mom threatened to break down the door that I finally left the room with a single goal on my mind. It should've been clear what I had to do when I'd seen Lauren's rise to the top of the social ladder.

I needed boys to notice me. It was the only way to get the girls at school to like me.

I started wearing shorter skirts, which started to get some boys attention. A few of them would make catcalls and such in the hallways, but this just made the girls hate me more. In fact, I started being greeted almost every morning with a slushie facial, thrown by either one of the popular girls, or their boyfriends. It wasn't like it hadn't happened before that, but it seemed that the more attention I got from boys, the more slushies were thrown in my face. I figured I was getting the wrong kind of attention. Maybe they thought I was trying to steal their boyfriends or something, so I decided I needed a steady boyfriend of my own.

I know, it sounds crazy, but I was fifteen, and I wanted so badly to have friends.

I tried dating Jacob Ben Israel for a while. He'd been the only boy that was willing, and although I didn't feel anything for him, and he was creepy so often, he had moments where he was an absolute sweetheart. Unfortunately, dating Jacob didn't have the desired effect, either. He was a loser like me, so it didn't help my reputation with the female population at all. I broke up with Jacob a month after we'd started. We hadn't even moved past holding hands.

The abuse at school continued. Even after I joined our school's glee club at my mother's insistence (she said it was because she wanted her school to have a little competition, but I knew it was because she was trying to get me out of the funk I'd dropped into), I wasn't happy. Singing didn't provide the happiness and security that it once did. No one cared that I had an amazing voice or that my dancing skills were well above average. All they cared about was that I was different. I started thinking that the only way I'd be able to escape my bleak existence was to kill myself.

Then Finn Hudson transferred to our school, and everything changed for me.

Finn was one of those guys that everyone loved. He was tall and handsome and charming in that dorky kind of way. He was the starting quarterback during football season, and an excellent basketball player once winter came around. Every girl wanted him, and every guy wanted to be him. Even all the teachers loved him and let him slide on assignments and tests. Even his parents were becoming big in the community. His dad was a war veteran who now owned several branches on an insurance company, and his mother was very involved in the community and the PTA. He was our golden boy.

The day he talked to me for the first time is a day that I'll never forget. I was walking to one of my classes when someone decided to knock my books out of my hands. I was used to it, so I bent down to pick them up. The next thing I knew, someone was helping me. When I looked up and saw Finn looking at me, I immediately thought he was going to throw the book away or something, so I snatched it away from him.

"Whoa," he said. "I was only trying to help. I'm Finn, by the way."

"Um...hi," I said. "I'm Rachel. Rachel Berry."

"Yeah, I know. I've heard about you."

"You have?" I asked, totally caught off-guard.

"Yeah," he said, grabbing my books from me. "Let me carry these for you." I was too shocked to say anything to the contrary. "So you're in the glee club, right?"

"Yes," I said.

"Cool. I was thinking about joining. I sing a little."

"Really?" I said. "Because we can always use more members, and I'm still in need of a capable male lead that can keep up with me vocally. We have a real chance of doing well in competition, and it would look good on a college application."

"Oh, well, I'm probably not going to college, seeing as my dad's giving me a job after school, but it sounds like a good time," he said.

"Alright," I said as we got to my class. "This is me. I hope to see you after school at glee club practice."

"Definitely," he said, then he bent down and kissed me on the cheek. I didn't think I'd ever blushed so hard in my entire life. "I'll see you there."

Finn did end up joining glee club. He also asked me out a week later. The date ended with my first kiss, and although it wasn't as spectacular as it seemed to be in movies, I figured that was just because Hollywood was all about overselling romance, and I'd set my standards too high. I was just excited that he asked me to be his girlfriend on our second date.

Things at school immediately changed. For starters, the slushies stopped. So did knocking my lunch or my books out of my hands. Finn made sure to let everyone know that if they ever did anything like that to me again, there'd be hell to pay. Finn walked me to all my classes and gave me rides to and from school. He was always around me and always doting on me. It was very sweet.

The best part, though, was the way the girls treated me now. Since it wasn't cool to hate and pick on me anymore, the girls started to warm up to me. I found myself being invited to sleepovers and the movies. They'd ask me how I'd gotten Finn and what it was like dating him. In fact, for the most part, we talked about was boys, but I didn't care as long as they talked to me.

Things with Finn weren't perfect, of course. We'd had a few fights here and there. The first one was actually about my clothing. I'd been dressing a little more like the rest of the girls since my confidence had gone up. I'd thought that Finn would like it, but he turned out to be a little more conservative than I'd thought he was.

"You can't dress like this anymore," he'd said one day while he was driving me home from school.

"Like what?" I asked. "I'm just dressing like everyone else."

"I don't like the way the guys look at you when you wear stuff like that."

"It doesn't matter, Finn. I'm with you. Who cares if a few perverted guys look at me?"

"I care!" he yelled, startling me a bit. "Look, you're my girlfriend, and I should be able to go to school without worrying that you're trying to get attention from other guys."

"Is that what this is about?" I asked. "I'm not trying to get attention. I just like dressing this way."

"Yeah, well, if you keep at it, you just might find yourself alone," he said as he pulled up to my house. I felt the blood rush out of my head. He couldn't be serious. Being with him was the only thing keeping everyone from hating me again. I needed him.

"Okay. I-I didn't mean to upset you. I'll go back to the way I was dressing-"

"Minus the skirts," he said, and I nodded. Instantly, his demeanor changed, and I let out a smile of relief. "Sorry, babe. I didn't mean to scare you or anything. I just wanted you to know how important this was to me."

"I know," I said, then I kissed him and walked into my house.

Most of or fights went something like that. He was always changing little things about me. He'd stopped my babbling when I got nervous, because he said that he had a hard time keeping his interest up for that many words. He didn't like me wearing any make-up, because it just made me look like I was trying to hard to look pretty. Things like that. He just wanted me to be the perfect girlfriend, and I could understand that.

The hardest one to understand had been when Finn wanted to sleep with me. It was our junior year, and we were in New York for a competition. He'd managed to convince everyone to leave us in one of the hotel rooms together. It had started out innocent enough. We were just laying on the bed and kissing, but when I felt Finn trying to pull my top off, I sat up and scooted away.

"What the hell? What's going on?" he asked.

"Finn, I'm still not ready. I know you are, but this is really important to me-"

"What, you think I'm not good enough for you or something?" he spat out.

"N-No. It's not like that-"

"Then what? Are you planning on losing it to somebody else?" This happened a lot, actually. He wouldn't really let me finish what I was trying to say. He said it was because he already knew what I was thinking. He was wrong a lot of the time, but nobody's perfect, so I let it slide.

"Finn, you're the only guy I want," I said, and it was true. Being with Finn had made my life so much easier.

"Good, because you know no other guy would put up with you, right?" I nodded in agreement. "Look, I'm a pretty patient guy. I mean, the fact that we've been together so long sort of proves that, but I'm done waiting for this. All the guys on the team are ragging on me for not sleeping with you, and I can't have that."

"All the girls think you're really great for not making me do it."

He laughed. "Please. Like I care what those _girls_ think. They only say stuff like that to you so you won't give it up. They're just trying to bring us down, Rachel."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "They're my friends."

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure that before I showed up, they were all throwing slushies in your face. They hate you, Rachel. I'm the only one that really cares about you."

I hated what he was saying. I wanted so badly to not believe it, but it was so true. If Finn weren't here to protect me, the same girls that I considered friends would probably still be my biggest tormentors.

"I...I still don't want this right now." Finn just sighed and pulled me back down on the bed.

"Look, this is happening. I know what's best for us, okay? Whatever your instincts are telling you to do is wrong. I mean, when have they ever been right before?" He started kissing my neck, and I felt this sense of dread rise in my stomach. I pushed it away, though. Finn was right...he had to be right. He'd been right about everything else, so I let it happen.

It hurt. It hurt so bad that I had a hard time breathing between sobs.

Fortunately, it didn't last very long, and I'd been on the pill for months, so I didn't have to worry about pregnancy, so I let Finn fall asleep next to me, and I was able to stop my tears after an hour or so. Every time after that got a little less painful, until I didn't feel anything at all anymore. I was a little worried about the fact that I wasn't getting anything out of it (Finn even had to go as far as buying lube because I couldn't get wet), and at first, I thought there was something wrong with me. Finn told me, though, that it was way better for the guy than the girl, and most girls lied about how great their boyfriends were. He said I should do the same, so I did.

Finn and I went into our senior year together and happy, and when he proposed near the end of the year, I accepted without a second thought. I had no doubt in my mind that Finn was going to be the best I could ever find, so it only made sense for me to marry him. My parents weren't exactly thrilled by the prospect, but Finn said that we were making a new family, so our parents' opinions weren't as important anymore.

We got married right after we graduated. A lot of our classmates and his parents came. My parents, unfortunately, didn't. I'd cried about it for days, but I felt like this was the right thing to do. Well, my instincts were saying this was the wrong thing to do, but Finn was right about my instincts. They never told me the right thing to do. I knew I needed him in my life to keep things simple and easy.

We stayed in town. Finn got the job at his dad's local insurance branch. I stayed at home for the most part. After high school, Finn thought it would be best for me to distance myself from my friends. He said they only made trouble for us. He also said that keeping up a marriage and going to college would be too much for me to handle, so I let my dreams of NYU go. It hadn't been an easy decision, but I'd just become used to going along with what Finn said.

We were married for two years without any problems. Well, there were some problems. Finn was very controlling, but that wasn't really a problem. He just always knew what was best, and he was adamant on making sure that everything worked out the way he wanted. He...also occasionally hit me. It started about a year into our marriage, but it was nothing beyond a few cuts and bruises, and he always apologized immediately afterward. I just frustrated him from time to time, and he'd lose his temper. They were all problems I could ignore.

Then Santana Lopez moved to town, and turned my world upside down.


	2. Meeting Santana Lopez

A/N: This story is turning out to be really hard for me to write because of the subject matter. Still, I have ideas for it, so I'm going to keep writing. Just to warn you all again, there's triggery stuff in here. Enjoy :)

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><p>"Don't forget my parents are coming over tonight," Finn said, straightening his tie in front of our mirror.<p>

"I'll make sure the house is clean and dinner's on the table by the time they get here."

"Make sure it's done before I get home so I can check." I just nodded. "And make sure you set out the plates my mom got us. She'll love that."

"Everything will be perfect," I said.

"Just make sure you don't mess anything up this time. I'm still getting shit at work from the time you burned the chicken."

"Nothing like that will ever happen again," I said, flinching a little. I never wanted to see Finn as mad as he was that night again. A few of the bruises still hadn't healed. "I promise."

"Good. I'll see you tonight." he said. He leaned over, kissed me on the cheek, and walked out the door. I went straight to cleaning. I always kept a clean house, but it was even more important when Finn's parents came over. They were kind people; his father was strong-willed, just like Finn. His mother was very quiet and mild-mannered, and she tended to her husband and son's needs. She really was the perfect wife; her whole life revolved around her family.

That's why the house had to be perfect whenever they came over. Finn thought the world of his parents. To him, they had the absolute perfect relationship, and I knew that he constantly measured our marriage against theirs. He wanted them to know that we were doing just as well as they were, so he wanted the house and the food to be perfect. I understood. If my family were still in my life, I would've wanted to impress them, too.

I was so invested in cleaning out our fireplace that I almost didn't hear the knock at the door. At first, I almost didn't answer the door. It was probably a door-to-door salesman or someone trying to convert me to some church or another. Then I got worried that it might be Finn. Occasionally, he would drop by the house to make sure I was home, but that was usually around his lunch break, and it was only around ten. Still, I didn't want to risk him thinking that I was sneaking out of the house, so I answered.

I wasn't expecting a gorgeous woman about my age to be standing on the other side of the door.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Santana Lopez. I just moved in across the street, and I thought I'd introduce myself." She held out her hand, and I almost didn't take it. I was in shock. She wasn't wearing anything special; she was wearing a t-shirt and some baggy jeans. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and she wasn't wearing any make-up, but she was still so beautiful. When a few seconds went by, and she was still holding out her hand, I let out an awkward chuckle and took it.

"It's nice to meet you," I said with a smile. "Welcome to the neighborhood. How're you liking it so far?"

She shrugged. "I pretty much just got here, but it seems nice enough. It's quiet. A lot quieter than I'm used to, actually."

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"I've lived in Cleveland for the last year or so, but before that, I was in LA."

My eyes went wide. Why would anyone want to move from somewhere glamorous like LA to Lima, Ohio? She chuckled.

"What?" I asked her, not knowing what she was laughing about. I hoped that I hadn't done anything stupid.

"Nothing. It's just that LA's not all it's cracked up to be," she said. "Not everything is beaches and famous movie stars. Plus the cost of living is so much higher, and there's all the pollution. It's really a mess."

"Well, I've never left Lima, so I'm sure I'd still be left in awe if I were to ever visit. Lima's not much of anything, really. I think you'll be missing big city living." I didn't know why I even told her that. I'd never thought that life in Lima was so bad. Well, I had, but not since I'd been with Finn. At least not much, anyways. Sure, I'd had dreams of living in a city (New York more than LA), but I thought I'd let them go.

I guess there was still a little bit of that longing left in me.

She laughed a little bit. "Well, I'm liking the people," she said.

"Oh? Who have you met in the neighbor?" I asked.

"Just you, but if everyone's as nice as you, I think I'll like it here," she flashed me a sly smile and a wink, and I felt my face heat up. Why was I blushing? She was just being friendly. God, I really needed more human interaction. Although, it was a little hard when Finn didn't want me leaving the house.

"Well, I didn't mean to interrupt your day or anything, so I'll get going," she said, to me, and I felt myself frown.

"Oh," I said, surprised by how sad I felt by her leaving. I hadn't realized how much I missed having people around...people that weren't somehow related to Finn or his work. "Well, yes, I have a lot to get to around the house."

"I hope I didn't throw off your day too much," she said with a concerned look, and I shook my head before she could really worry.

"Oh, no. Don't worry about it at all. I just like a clean house."

We smiled at each other for a few seconds before she said, "I guess I'll get going."

She started to walk away, and my mouth started running before I could stop it.

"Maybe you could come over again sometime," I said before she could walk away. "I could make cookies. I make really good cookies. I also make other things, if you're not into sweets. I make a mean vegan pasta...although, I could add meat to it. I know a lot of people don't like the vegan lifestyle. I'm actually not vegan anymore myself, but I still try to stay away from meat as much as I possibly can. You know, many of those animals are tortured, and-"

"Hey!" Santana finally said, and I shut my mouth. I closed my eyes and sighed. I knew I'd blown it. I was surprised that she was still standing there and hadn't run in the opposite direction "Listen...I actually don't have your name."

"It's Rachel, and I'm sorry I started rambling," I said. "I do that when I'm nervous. I've been told it's extremely annoying."

"I think it's pretty cute, actually." I blushed again. I'd only known her for a minute, but Santana Lopez was beyond kind if she was calling my rambling cute. "And yeah, I'd like to hang out more, if you're up for it."

"Oh...okay!" I said with a smile. "You can come over whenever you like during the day. I mostly just stay at home, so just...come on by!"

"Definitely," she said, as she walked away, waving. "I'll see you around, Rachel!"

I liked the way she said my name.

It wasn't until she was walking away that I really thought about Finn. He didn't like it when I had people over if he wasn't there...and also if he hadn't invited them over. Besides, if Santana was over all the time, I might let the house slip, and Finn wouldn't have that. On the other hand...I just really wanted to see Santana again. I'd have to keep the visits to a minimum and make sure she was gone well before Finn got home.

It was probably better that way, anyways. I was better in small doses, and I wanted to keep the good impression that I'd seemed to make. Still, I couldn't believe what I was doing. Was I really going to hide this from Finn?

I just shrugged it off. I would tell him...eventually. I'm sure that once he realized that I was able to maintain a friendship (which I really hope this turned into) and I was still able to provide for him, he wouldn't mind. At least that's what I hoped.

Yeah...I would tell him. Just not right away.

I spent the rest of the day getting everything ready for Finn's parents that night, but I was having a hard time focusing. I kept thinking about Santana. I knew next to nothing about her and yet, her little visit had left quite an impression on me. Still, I needed to concentrate. The last thing I wanted to do was upset Finn.

When Finn got home that night, I could tell that he was in an awful mood. I tried to calm him down, but that had earned me a shove into a wall (he immediately apologized for it), so I decided to just go back to making everything perfect for the night, and thankfully, he left me alone.

Dinner should have gone off without a hitch. The house was so clean, it was almost sparkling, dinner was impeccable (I made Finn's mother's recipe for lasagne, and she had nothing but nice things to say), and I was dolled up to perfection. Everything was going swimmingly until the topic changed to work.

"So I heard a few people talking about you today, Finn," Mr. Hudson said. "Something about a premature account cancellation due to misplaced funds?"

Finn let out an uncomfortable laugh and shrugged. "It was just one account, Dad. We'll have five more just like it by Friday. It's no big deal."

He shook his head. "That wasn't just any account. Mr. Jackson had about every type of insurance we had to offer, and because you messed up his auto insurance account, he's talking about switching to one of our bigger competitors. Besides that, I don't want the bad press that we can't keep track of our money and our policies. It could seriously influence business, and I can't have that."

"I'll fix it. I just have to figure out what happened to his payment." Finn laughed a little. "I mean, he still pays in cash through the mail. It's pretty lame, actually. Who doesn't have a card to pay their bills?"

"It wasn't your fault, honey," I said. "It was probably lost in the mail. I can't tell you how many times I've ordered things throughout my life and never gotten them."

Finn glared at me, and I knew I'd done something wrong. I always did that; I'd say something when I wasn't supposed to. I took a bite of my food to hide my frown. Everything had been going so well...

"No offense, Rachel," Mr. Hudson said to me with a grin that I wasn't entirely sure was sincere, "but you don't know how things work at our office. This isn't the first time that Finn's lost money. Last time, it cost me three accounts. It would've been more if I hadn't been able to salvage the situation." He turned his attention to Finn. "You can't keep doing this, kiddo. Do you have any idea how it makes me look? How much money it costs me?"

"I'll find the money, sir. I'll make sure the policy is fixed, and I'll make sure Mr. Jackson is happy with his service." Finn said. "You can count on me."

"I hope so. You have potential, but you've got to use that head of yours. I know there's something in there," Mr. Hudson said, and I cringed. Finn hated it when people made him feel stupid. Thankfully, after that, we moved onto another topic. I couldn't concentrate through the rest of dinner. I knew Finn would be angry, and I knew there wasn't much I could do but hope that he would calm down on his own before his parents left the house.

They left about an hour later, and I went straight to the kitchen and started washing dishes. I flinched when I heard Finn's footsteps behind me while I stood at the sink.

"Rachel?" he asked, eerily calm.

"Yes, Finn?" I asked, not looking away from the dishes.

"What the hell was that at dinner? You know not to talk when my dad and I are talking about business."

I swallowed hard. I did know that, but sometimes, when Finn's father would give him a particularly hard time, I'd want to defend him. It was just in my nature.

"I know," I said. "I...I was just trying to help."

He let out a humorless laugh. "You thought you could help me? You don't think I can handle myself?"

I shook my head. "No, it's just-" I turned around with a jump when I heard the sound of glass shattering. I saw a wine stain on the wall and glass all over the floor.

"Fucking look at me when I talk to you!" he screamed at me, and I couldn't think to do anything but nod. "God, you are so stupid! There's a reason I tell you not to speak unless your spoken to!"

"I-I know-"

"Stop saying you know! Obviously, you don't!" Finn had me pinned against the sink before I could even think to react. "Were you trying to embarrass me? Trying to make me feel stupid?"

I shook my head. "That's not what I was doing."

Finn slapped me hard across the face, and I would've fallen if he hadn't grabbed me. I tried to stop my tears from falling; crying only made things worse and made Finn feel bad.

"I work so hard trying to make sure you have everything you need here, and all you do is disobey me!" He slapped me again, and this time, he let me fall to the floor. "The guys at work think I'm a joke, and it's your fault!"

"I'm sorry," I gasped out, holding my cheek while he hit me a few more times. I was going to be sore tomorrow. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. Please."

Finn sighed before he finally stopped and leaned down next to me. He pulled my hand away and caressed my cheek. I wanted to crawl away, but I knew that would just serve to make him more angry. There wasn't much I could do to avoid making him more angry, but I tried to steer clear of things I knew without a doubt would set him off.

"I'm sorry I had to do this," he said. "You're just so...just stay out of things you don't understand, okay? I don't like it when you make me do things like this. It hurts me, Rachel." I nodded, and he helped me to my feet. I could almost feel the bruise forming on my face. I just hoped that if it swelled, it didn't last very long before it went down.

I apologized for making him feel bad a few more times as I got off the ground, and he kissed me. I hoped that would be it. Just a simple kiss...but it was never just a simple kiss. It was always him sticking his tongue down my throat and dragging me to the bedroom (unless he was particularly riled up...then it was just the couch or a table). Finn always wanted more. Why wouldn't he? Why shouldn't he expect his wife to satisfy his needs? It was completely normal for him to except that from me.

Still, I couldn't help but wish a little bit that he'd just left me on the floor.

He walked me to the bedroom, and as much as I wanted to push him away, I knew it would be a lot worse if I said no. Finn hadn't let me say no since I'd lost my virginity to him. To be fair, I hadn't really tried since then, but that was because I was afraid of what he'd do if I ever tried to turn him down. No, it was just easier to lie there, even if I did feel the shame and pain afterward.

I shouldn't have felt the way I did. He was my husband. I knew when we got married that he would want to have sex with me. It was a part of being in a relationship. I thought I would get used to it over time emotionally, but I didn't. It never felt right. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Finn always told me that I wasn't supposed to feel much of anything, but I felt like I should feel something besides...dread. It was the only word I could think to describe the feeling I got whenever he came toward me with that look in his eyes.

I always tried to find something to like about out encounters. As hard as I tried, though, I could never find anything. He was rough with me whenever he'd had a bad day, so he'd rip my clothes off (sometimes literally. I'd lost some of my favorite clothes that way...he always bought me new ones, though) and he would pull my hair and manhandle my chest. He'd occasionally hit me, but he usually got that out of his system before we got to the bedroom. Beyond that, we'd have sex, he'd grunt in my ear, and sweat a lot, and then he'd finish.

That's probably the part that I liked the best; it never lasted very long.

Was this how all women felt? It couldn't be. I may have romanticized intimacy in my mind too much, but there had to be a reason that such a big part of relationships was making love.

There had to be something wrong with me.

I really wanted to take a shower when he was done. I always did, but Finn fell asleep afterward, and I didn't want to risk waking him. I was just glad that the night was over. I felt worse than I had in a long time. It wasn't so much that Finn had taken out his hard day on me. That was happening with more and more frequency. It was more because my day had been going so well before. I'd been happier than I'd been in quite a while. Everything should have been perfect...and yet, I ended up in bed next to my husband, still trying to hold back my tears.

I couldn't help but think that I didn't deserve friends if I was so defective and weak...and even though I'd just met her, what I was really thinking was that I didn't deserve Santana Lopez as a friend. I really didn't know her, but I knew she was so much better than me. That thought was actually what made my tears finally fall. I held onto my pillow and muffled my sobs as much as I could until I finally fell asleep.


	3. Bruises

I hated it when Finn hit my face the most. Sure, they all hurt the same, but the other bruises I could just cover with clothes and no one would even know they were there. The ones on my face, though, were almost impossible to hide without heavy make-up, which I hated. Fortunately, people very rarely came over, so I'd only have to do that if Finn was having a get-together, which was a problem in and of itself, because Finn didn't like me in make-up, either. He usually was careful not to make visible marks when he knew he'd have people over in the near future, though, so that was almost never a problem.

Still, once in a great while, we'd get a package that I'd have to sign for or something like that, and I'd have to deal with stares and looks of sympathy. I hated those the most. It's like these people knew what was happening. I didn't want anyone to know how weak I was, but it was so hard to hide when the evidence was written on my face

The other thing I hated about those bruises, though, was seeing them every time I looked in a mirror. I'd see the black and purple and blue marring my face, and I couldn't help but feel shame. Sometimes, it was shame that I'd made Finn do this to me again. Other times, it was because it was a reminder that I'd fallen short of being the perfect wife. On the rare occasion that I'd really look deep inside myself, I'd feel angry that he'd done this to me. I'd almost feel like this wasn't all my fault...that maybe he was the problem.

Then I'd remember that everyone loved him, and that everyone hated me before he came around, and I'd know that it wasn't him. In fact, sometimes, I'd feel like I deserved worse.

I made Finn his breakfast that morning, and he left with a smile and a kiss on my cheek. I was glad that he seemed to have let go of our fight from the night before, and I hoped that his good mood would last him through the day, so I wouldn't have to have another night like the one before.

About an hour after Finn left, I heard a knock on my door. I sighed. I really didn't want to answer it. I couldn't deal with the looks, and I was pretty sore from where he'd hit me. I'd even had a little trouble moving around while I was cleaning, so I just decided to not answer the door for once, hoping that it wasn't anyone to check up on me. It wasn't until I heard a voice on the other side of the door that I started to panic.

"Rachel? You in there?" It was Santana. She couldn't see me like this. She knocked again, and I spoke up.

"Um...yeah! I'm here!" I yelled, running towards the door, and immediately regretting moving so fast.

"Oh, good," she said. "I thought you might've gone out or something."

I groaned. If I'd just stayed quiet, she probably would've just gone away. Why did I have to be so stupid?

"No," I said, trying to think of something. "I was just...getting out of the shower. I didn't hear the door."

"Okay," she said with a little laugh. There was a moment of silence, then she spoke up again. "Do you think you could open the door? Not that I'm not enjoying talking to you through it, but-"

"You can't come in!" I said before I could stop myself. I was trying to keep my voice calm, but I was freaking out.

"Why not?" Santana asked, almost sounding worried. "Is everything okay? You sound a little weird."

I almost started hyperventilating. What was I supposed to say now? 'Oh, I'm fine, I just don't want you to see the huge bruise on my face from where my husband smacked me last night'? She'd probably think I was pathetic.

"I-uh-I'm fine! I just need to...get dressed. That's all. I don't want you to see me in just a towel. That would be rude." It made sense...sort of. I'd told her I was just getting out of the shower.

Santana laughed a little bit. "Alright. I'll wait here. Just don't leave me hanging too long. It's cold out here."

I sighed in relief. I went upstairs and took out my make-up kit. It was hard to cover the bruise without looking like a prostitute, or at the very least looking like too much for someone who's just having a friend over, but I did the best I could. A few minutes and a few tries later, and with a new outfit (I didn't want her to see me in my cleaning clothes again. I wanted to at least look presentable), I was satisfied with how I looked, and I ran back down the stairs.

When I opened the door, I was greeted with a smile from Santana. If it was possible, she looked even better than she had the day before. She was wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a button-up, purple shirt. Her hair was down, and it fell over her shoulders in waves. She looked amazing, and it made me feel a little...strange. Nervous was the word that came closest to what I was feeling, but that wasn't quite right, either. It was a pleasant feeling, though, so I decided to just smile back and not question it.

"Hey," she said, and then she leaned in and hugged me. I went a little stiff, both from pain and surprise, and she pulled away. "Sorry. My best friend is pretty affectionate, and I think it's starting to rub off on me."

I smiled and shook my head. "No, it's fine. I just wasn't expecting it. Maybe we could try it again sometime."

Santana started to laugh, and I just wanted the earth to swallow me whole. Why would I say that? Now she was going to think I was some kind of freak. I was sure she was about to walk away, still laughing at how weird I was, but she just walked into the house.

"You're funny," she said as she looked around a bit, and I followed her. "I like it."

"I'm sorry," I said. "It's just I don't have people over very often."

"Nothing to be sorry about," she said, "So did you run upstairs to get yourself all dolled up?"

"I-I-no." I had hoped that she wouldn't notice. She raised an eyebrow at me, and I just hoped that she didn't somehow know the whole truth. "I just figured I'd put a little something on."

She looked at me for a moment, before saying, "You don't need it, you know. You look great without it, too." I just blushed at the compliment, and then we dropped into silence. It was a little awkward. I just didn't know what to say. Santana seemed so at ease with herself...so used to associating with people and being the center of attention. It was almost intimidating.

"Um...would you like something to eat?" I finally said. "I'd be happy to make you breakfast."

"Breakfast sounds great," she said. "I mean, if it wouldn't be to much trouble."

"It's no trouble at all!" I said, probably a little too enthusiastically, but I was just glad that she hadn't left yet. "I actually love to cook. What would you like? Waffles? Pancakes? I make some pretty tasty potato pancakes, although, they take a while to cook, so if you're really hungry right now..." I trailed off when I heard Santana laughing a little bit. "I was rambling again, wasn't I?"

She nodded. "I'll just take some waffles, thanks."

I nodded and got to work. We made small talk as I cooked. Turns out, Santana was a couple of years older than me, and had just graduated from UCLA with a business degree She'd moved with her best friend Brittany to Ohio to get a business started.

"Why here?" I asked as I made the waffles. "Why not just start something in LA?"

"Well, Britt and I wanted to do something together, and she's a dancer, so we figured we'd start a dance studio or something. Problem is, there's too much competition in California, so we decided middle America was a safer bet, at least as a place to start. We tried Cleveland, but it wasn't really working, but then Brittany met this guy Mike who's also a dancer, and he lives here and has a nice chunk of money, so we went into business with him, and now we've got a set-up."

"That's amazing," I said. "So do you dance, too?"

She shook her head. "Don't get me wrong, I can hold my own at the club, but I'm nothing compared to Brittany and Mike. I do all the messy paperwork while they do all the teaching. It's a pretty sweet deal for all involved, and we're already getting some pretty good buzz around town."

"I bet," I said. "I remember having to drive three towns over just to go to dance classes as a kid."

"You're a dancer?" Santana asked, and I shook my head. "But you used to dance?"

"Yes," I said. "But I haven't for a couple of years."

"Why'd you stop?" she asked.

"I suppose my priorities changed. You know how it is when you get older. Different things seem important." I couldn't keep the sadness out of my voice. I missed dancing almost as much as I missed singing, but I couldn't keep that up and be the perfect wife. Something had to give, so dancing went as soon as I graduated. I couldn't tell Santana all that, though.

She laughed. "Get older? You look like you just graduated high school a year ago."

"Two years ago, actually," I said.

"See what I mean?" she said. "You're practically a baby. You could always take it up again. I'd even give you a discount at my studio."

I laughed as I finished up the waffles. "Are you trying to trick me into coming to your studio? Is that why you came over today?"

"Maybe," she said with a cheeky grin as I gave her a waffle. Her eyes went wide when she looked at the plate. "Oh my God."

"What?" I asked. "Does it look bad? I can make you another one. Or maybe something else all together-"

"Rachel, this looks incredible!" she said. "When you said waffles, I didn't think you meant fruit-filled, whip cream covered Belgian waffles." She took a bite and moaned. I felt my knees go weak and my breath hitch.

"You like it?" I asked with an inexplicable waver in my voice.

She nodded. "I'm pretty sure it's the best thing I've ever had in my life." I smiled, feeling like I'd finally done something right. "Are you going to eat anything?"

"I ate earlier," I said.

"Oh," she said. "You didn't have to do this just for me. I could've eaten later or something."

I shook my head. "It's fine. Like I said, I love to cook."

Santana practically inhaled the waffle, and I just watched her with a smile. I loved it when I could make something that people liked.

"Well, I ate that embarrassingly fast," Santana said with a chuckle.

"Don't worry about it," I said.

"I hope it wasn't too disturbing watching me shovel food in my mouth."

I shook my head. She'd actually been quite delicate while eating, even though she ate so fast. At least there weren't crumbs all over the table and the floor like when Finn ate.

"You should be a chef or something," she said with a smile. "Seriously, that was better than anything I've eaten in a restaurant."

I laughed. "No, cooking's more of a hobby for me. I don't think I could really do that for a living."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't mind eating like that every morning," she said. "Although, I'm pretty sure I just ate enough calories for the entire week."

"I really don't think you have to worry about that. Your body is amazing." I didn't even know why I'd said it, but when I saw Santana's smile get even wider, I didn't really care.

"So what do you do, then?" she asked. "It must be pretty impressive if it got you this house. Do you work from here?"

"Oh, I don't work," I said. "Finn and his parents pay for everything. I just keep house, mostly."

"Who's Finn?" Santana asked. I was confused. Had I really not mentioned him? How could I have gone this long without bringing up my husband? He was usually one of the first things that I brought up in conversation. Then again, I was usually talking to his friends. Maybe that's why it hadn't come up yet.

"Finn's my husband," I said.

"Oh..." Santana said. She almost sounded...disappointed? That didn't make any sense, though. Why would she care? "How long?"

"Two years," I said.

"High school sweethearts?" she asked, and I nodded.

"We started dating junior year. We got married after graduation." I usually went into a lot more detail when I told that story, but I didn't think that Santana wanted to hear it.

"Charming," she said, and I could've sworn that she rolled her eyes. I felt like I'd done something wrong, but I couldn't figure out what it was.

"Is everything okay?" I asked. "You seem a little-"

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just...didn't know. I guess I should've noticed the band on your finger. I just got the vibe that...nevermind. It's not important. I should go."

"What, now?" I asked, confused. "Why?"

"I've just got some stuff I need to do...for the studio," she said, standing up. "You understand. Thank you for breakfast."

"Santana, whatever I did to upset you-"

"It's not you, okay?" she said. "I just have things to do."

"Yeah, sure," I said as I watched her turn away and leave. I'd wanted to ask her if she'd come back, but she was out the door before I had the chance. I didn't know why she'd left in such a hurry. What had I done to make her run off like that? I felt like all I did was screw up. I'd done it last night during dinner, and I'd done it again now. I felt so frustrated with myself.

I cleaned up the dishes from Santana's breakfast and worked on the house a bit, but I felt a lot less motivated than usual. I just kept playing the day over and over again in my head. It had seemed like everything was going well, and then I mentioned Finn, and she just...left. Maybe she really had been just trying to bait me into coming to her studio. Maybe when she found out I wasn't the one with the money, she'd been irritated that she'd wasted her entire morning on me.

If that was true, Santana was one of the best saleswomen to ever grace this earth.

But no, that couldn't have been it. It's not like she knew I was a dancer when she came over. Besides, I really didn't want that to be true. She'd been so kind to me, and that didn't happen very often. Then again, the girls in high school had been kind to me, but that was only because I was attached to Finn. If he hadn't been a part of the equation, they would've never stopped torturing me.

I knew I was overanalyzing this, but how could I not? Santana's departure had seemingly come out of nowhere, and I just wanted an explanation. I'd even thought about going over to her house to ask her what I'd done, but I couldn't get up the nerve. I didn't want to know what it was if it meant that our entire pleasant morning had just been a sales pitch.

Finn came home that night, and he was in a much better mood than the night before. I was relieved; I didn't think that I could deal with him on top of my thoughts about Santana.

"Hello, sweetie," he said as he walked in the door.

"Hey," I said, grabbing his things and putting them away. "How was work?"

"Awesome," he said. "I found the money, and actually managed to sign a new account. Plus, my dad was able to pin the whole thing on Johnson, so I'm not getting in any trouble."

Mr. Hudson was always able to save Finn's job when something went wrong. It usually meant that someone else was getting fired for the mistake, and it was always someone that Finn didn't like.

"So is Johnson gone?" I asked, and Finn shook his head.

"Final notice, but I'm sure he'll screw something up and get fired. There's a lot to screw up at that place."

I nodded and finished up dinner. We sat at the table and ate mostly in silence before Finn finally spoke up.

"What's with all the make-up?" he asked me, and I almost froze before I was able to recover.

"I put it on just in case anyone stopped by," I said. "My face is a little off-color." Finn didn't like it when I brought up the bruises, so we'd established something of a code.

"Why would anyone stop by?" he asked, a little sharply. I took a deep breath. I couldn't tell him the truth. The night had been going well, and I didn't want to test that.

"Oh, you know some of the boys from work stop by from time to time to get paperwork," I said, keeping up with the code. "I just didn't want them to get the wrong idea."

Finn looked at me for a second, and I struggled to maintain eye contact. I didn't want him to see through my lie, but I knew if I looked away, he would know there was something else I wasn't telling him. After a short while, he nodded, and I had to focus to not smile in relief that he hadn't questioned me further. I didn't know how much longer I would've been able to deceive him.

"Just remember to wash it off before I get home next time," he said. "You know how I feel about make-up."

I nodded, glad that he was in a good mood. If he wasn't, just seeing me with make-up on would've set him off. The rest of the night went smoothly. I gave Finn a massage and we watched some TV before we went to bed. I almost jumped for joy when he said he was too tired to do anything with me that night. I should've been happy as I crawled into bed.

Still, I couldn't get Santana out of my mind. I just wished that I knew how to make it better. I feared that she would never come over again, and that thought alone almost made me sick. Two days with this girl, and she was already the best friend I'd had in quite some time.

I prayed that Santana would come back, then I fell asleep.


	4. Making Plans

A/N: So, after a long time where I went back and forth on whether to keep writing (this story and in general), I decided to update. It's short, and it's filler, but it's something, and I'm just trying to get the ball rolling again. Hope you all enjoy.

* * *

><p>Two weeks went by without Santana.<p>

The first few days, I'd listened for a knock, hoping she would stop by to tell me what had made her run off the last time...what I'd done to upset her so badly. She never came, though, so I stopped hoping, and things went back to normal. That shouldn't have bothered me much, though, considering that I'd only seen her all of two times, but I couldn't help the bit of disappointment I felt. The two of us had clicked on some level, and I didn't like the thought that we'd probably never be able to build the friendship that I was hoping for.

It was probably for the best, though, since Finn didn't know about her.

I tried to put her out of my mind. My main priority, as it had always been, was being a loving and caring wife to Finn, so I threw myself into taking care of him. He'd even noticed, and outside of when he had bad days at work, we were having good days together. He'd even gone out and bought me new clothes when he got promoted (the result of Johnson making another mistake that lead him to getting fired and Finn getting his job). All was well in my life.

When I heard the knock on my door after those two weeks, though, I couldn't help but feel hopeful. It was pathetic, really, hoping for Santana to be on the other side of the door, but I couldn't stop the way I was feeling. I needed a friend, that much was certain, and so far, Santana was the only applicant in longer than I could remember.

When I opened the door, I couldn't help the sigh of relief and the small smile when it really was her.

"Hi," she said, looking nervous.

"Hello. What brings you here?"

She took a few breaths before she spoke.

"Look, I know I'm a bitch, okay?"

I was completely lost. That wasn't how I'd expected this conversation to start. I was more expecting 'You offended me in this and that way, but I've decided to forgive you because I'm perfect' or something.

"I...I don't really know what you expect me to say, Santana," I finally said. "I don't think you're a bitch, if that's what you were wondering."

"No, that's not-" She cut herself off and took another deep breath. "Okay, let me try this again. I'm sort of a guarded person. I don't get along with people easily because my default is to just insult them until they fear me or go away or something, but I'm trying to change that. Lima is my new start, and I want to start on the right foot...so I'd like to say I'm sorry for running out of your house the other day."

"Wh-what?" I asked. What did she have to be sorry for?

"I just...without getting into my long, boring sob story, things have been pretty rough for me the last few years, and I throw up walls. But Brittany says I should let people in that aren't her, so I'm trying. With you."

I couldn't help but smile again. "Why me? I'm not anything special."

"Well...you're sweet, and you seem like you could use a friend, and I know I could use a friend that I didn't drag halfway across the country-"

"I thought you and Brittany both wanted to come here?"

"That's not the point," she said, and I knew not to push it. "I'm just saying that I think we may have a chance at being friendly."

Friendly. Friends. I _really _liked the sound of that.

"So you're not mad at me?" I asked

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"I just thought that I'd done something wrong when you left. Did it have something to do with Finn?"

She tensed. "Um...sort of. I'm sure he's a nice guy and everything, but..."

She looked around for a few seconds without saying anything, and I put the pieces together.

A beautiful woman like Santana finding out that someone like me was married before her? I'd probably be upset if I were her, too.

"Say no more," I said, holding up my hand. "I get it."

"You do?" she asked, and I nodded. "And you're...cool...with it?"

I nodded again. "I completely understand. I harbor no resentment."

She sighed and smiled at me. "Good, so now that we've got that settled, is there any way I could come in for a while? It's a rare dead day for me...and I was sort of hoping you would cook for me again."

I stepped aside with a laugh and let her in. We talked for hours that day. It wasn't until I realized Finn would be home soon that I finally rushed her out the door, and she promised to come back soon.

And she did. She came by every chance she had, which wasn't as much as I would've liked, but she did have a busy job, so I understood. I was just glad that she was making any time for me at all. We'd actually learned quite a bit about each other since she'd started going over, but there were definitely things that we didn't talk about. We didn't talk much about her teen and college years back in California. Every time I asked, she'd get vague and change the subject. I wanted to know about that part of her life, but how could I expect that of her when I was unwilling to talk about my past, either?

We also didn't talk much about Finn. She knew we were married, she knew what I'd told her the first time he'd been brought up, and she knew a little bit about his job, but it never really went beyond that. I assumed she didn't want to hear about my married life, which is why I was so shocked when she started asking me about it on one of her visits.

"How'd you two meet?" she asked while we were drinking coffee on the couch.

"Oh, um, we went to high school together."

"Yeah, I know that, but what made you two start talking? How'd you start dating?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "He was interested in me, so we started talking, and then we started dating. There's not much else to it."

"That's it?" she asked with a little laugh. "I thought it'd be a little more romantic than that, considering that you jumped into marriage so fast."

"Our story is very romantic," I said, a little more defensively than I meant to. "He saved me. He was the first person to show me even the slightest kindness at that school. I didn't have anyone before I met him."

"What about your parents?"

I felt my jaw clench. I hadn't talked to my parents since Finn and I got married. It wasn't like I hadn't thought about them. I thought about them almost every single day, but no one ever asked me about them. On the few times people had, I'd lied and said they were dead. It was easier than trying to explain that I didn't need them when I was making a new family with Finn. People just didn't understand.

I didn't want to lie to Santana, though. I just really didn't want to tell her the truth, either.

"My relationship with my parents is...complicated," I finally settled on.

"Oh...sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine," I said. It wasn't fine. Why was she asking so many questions now? I thought that we'd established certain lines that neither of us crossed. I probably should have been happy that she wanted to learn more about me, but I just felt anxious.

Santana spoke up after another beat. "So when do I get to meet him?"

I gulped. "Him, who?"

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Rachel. We've been hanging out for a month, and I still haven't met your husband."

"Has it really been that long?"

"Stop deflecting," she said. "Look, I'd like to think we're pretty good friends-"

"We are?" I asked, and she smiled.

"Why do you think I'm at your house all the time?"

I grinned so hard that my cheeks hurt a little. "It could've been the cooking."

She shook her head. "Yeah, well, I don't think it would be terrible to meet your husband. I mean, I'm sure he's probably curious about the woman that's been keeping you company while he's away."

I couldn't tell her that Finn didn't know. What would she think? Would she think I was ashamed of her? Would she think I was crazy? Would she figure out why I was really hiding her? That was probably the worst thing that could happen.

Still, it's not like I could introduce her to Finn. He wouldn't understand my need for friends, and she wouldn't understand...well, she just wouldn't understand.

Eventually, I'd tell him...but not yet.

"He's...he's just very busy, Santana," I finally said. "He's so tired after work that he can barely stay awake, much less entertain company. Maybe after things have calmed down for him a little bit at work, we can see about having dinner together or something."

She smiled. "Oh, I can totally relate to that. Sometimes I'm so exhausted that I don't even remember how I got into my bed."

I sighed, relieved that she bought my story. I hated lying, but I found myself doing it with an increasing frequency as of late.

"So...rain check?" I finally said.

"Sure," she answered back. "So, I'm heading off. I probably won't be able to stop by tomorrow."

"No problem," I said, but I couldn't help but feel disappointed. "You don't have to come by all the time."

"Getting sick of me already?" she asked with a smirk.

"Absolutely not!" I answered back with a laugh and a playful shove. I liked it when we were playful like this with each other.

"Well, in that case...maybe you'd like to come hang out with me and my friends sometime? I promise they don't bite."

I smiled sadly. This wasn't the first time that Santana had invited me out. I could tell that she felt a bit awkward about us always hanging out at my house, but I didn't have another choice.

"I'm sorry, but Finn and I don't really get much time together."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know. You're quite the dutiful housewife." I went to apologize again, but she spoke first. "I'm sorry, that was rude. I really am working on it."

"It's okay," I said, but she shook her head.

"I really should be nicer to you, considering you let me into your home so often. Someday, though, you're gonna have to leave this house before it drives you crazy." She said it with a smile, but I had a feeling she was being at least a little bit sincere.

"I know," I said. "I'll see you next time, okay?"

She just nodded and gave me a hug goodbye. If I ever did meet her friends, I would have to thank Brittany for making Santana a hugger.

I cleaned the few dishes that Santana and I had made throughout the day, and I put the finishing touches on dinner. I was surprised when Finn wasn't home on time, but he showed up a couple hours late. He came in grumbling about a meeting running late, but I could smell the whiskey on his breath. I knew that I'd have to tread lightly tonight to avoid his wrath.

"I'm going on a business trip next week," he mumbled around his food around halfway through dinner.

"Really?" I said. "What for?"

"Part of my job now," he said. "I guess I have to go to other offices and observe something something...my dad explained it, but I wasn't listening."

I was nervous to say anything. If I seemed too excited for him, he would start to wonder if I wanted him gone. If I was too negative, he would think I wasn't supportive. If I didn't say anything at all, he would think I wasn't listening.

"Well, that's great!" I finally settled on. "I bet only the best guys get chances like this. Congratulations."

When I saw the small smile on his face, I knew I'd said the right thing, and I sighed in relief.

"Yeah, it's sort of a big deal," he said. "In any case, I'll be gone for a few days. You think you can manage?"

I nodded. "I'll miss you terribly, but I think I'll be alright."

"Good," he said, then he went back to his food. He went to bed without much of a fuss, so tipsy that he didn't even notice that I didn't go with him. It was going to be strange, being without Finn. I hadn't gone a night without him since high school. I felt slightly panicked at the idea, to be honest, but I knew that he didn't need to know that. His job was already stressful enough. I'd just work through it.

It also occurred to me that without Finn around, it gave me a bit more freedom. Freedom to do things I might otherwise be unable to do. Again, it was lying (well, not technically, but I wouldn't be telling him of my plans while he was gone, and if he asked, I would probably lie), but this could be my only chance. I picked up my house phone and dialed. She answered on the second ring.

"Santana? Hi, it's Rachel. About going out with your friends...how does next week sound?"


End file.
